


Just Passing Through

by flyingfoxtopus



Series: Just Life [2]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Airports, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, First Meetings, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28141152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingfoxtopus/pseuds/flyingfoxtopus
Summary: Steve’s plan to spend the Holidays on a Mediterranean beach with his team are thrown into disarray when flight delays and a blizzard leave him stranded at the airport. There’s nothing he can do other than find somewhere to hole up, read the book he brought with him, send a few snarky comments back to Bucky in response to his poolside selfies, and accept his fate.At least until the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen, with the most attractive accent he’s ever heard, asks to share his couch.Steve’s happy to share, and even happier when he and the mysterious English Peggy hit it off. Not that it means anything. It is one dinner between strangers brought together by circumstance.Its not like Steve and Peggy are ever going to see each other again……Right?
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Series: Just Life [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026046
Kudos: 33





	1. December 24th

**Author's Note:**

> I said they'd be back, and their back... 
> 
> Does it count as back given that this is set before "Just Roommates"?
> 
> Does it matter?
> 
> Have a happy little holiday ramble that I only wrote because I was stuck in a largely vacant airport for way too long.

Steve looked up at the big board in the middle of the room, watching as the time after his flight changed again. Another delay. He had known this would happen. Traveling the week before Christmas was always a terrible idea. Unfortunately, his professor hadn’t seen things the same way. She was dead against making what she saw as unfair accommodations, even for a GI who was technically on deployment. Which meant no remote exams, leaving him to fly halfway around the world and back in the three days. 

Or it should have been within three days. Now that he was twenty hours in on the last day and still hadn’t made his first connection, he was thinking it was going to take a little longer. A storm had grounded his plane in Iceland, the exact opposite of the beach vacation he was supposed to be on. It wasn’t just his flight to Frankfurt that had been redirected. It looked like half of the air traffic over the Atlantic was stranded. The airport was packed with angry, over tired, passengers. Steve’s kit bag bounced against his back as he walked the length of the terminal in search of an unoccupied seat. He was supposed to be on leave with his squad, bonding, recuperating, enjoying the sun in a non-desert setting, owning Bucky at water polo. Instead, he was stuck in an airport, dodging screaming children.

His phone buzzed. He fished it out to check the message. Bucky had sent him a picture. The squad lounging on a beach in Croatia. Monty and Jacque were paying volleyball, Dum Dum sunbathing with that stupid hat of his sitting on his face, Jim and Happy having a towel fight, and in the foreground, half cut out of the frame so he could fit everyone in the selfie but still managing to include his idiot grin, Bucky. 

Winter Soldier❄️: _No adult supervision!_

Steve sighed. If that wasn’t just salt in the wound. He loved Bucky. They were best friends and Steve couldn’t even imagine his life without him. But he could be a real jerk.

He dodged around a mother and her crying infant with a sympathetic grimace. This was the problem with agreeing to get his master’s in civil engineering. His team got down time, he got to go to school. He would admit he had been getting bored after West Point. Leading his squad was good, but he had wanted more, he had wanted to do something constructive. To build, not just call in drone strikes and blow up people’s houses. The degree had sounded like a good compromise when his CO had suggested it. That had been before he realised how much of his life was going to be spend in airports. Civilian planes might be a lot more comfortable, but the airlines never seemed to be able to run on time the way military flights did.

Tucked out of the way behind a pillar, not visible from any of the gates, Steve spotted it. The miracle he needed right now. A cushy loveseat. An _empty_ cushy loveseat. He sat down with a low groan. He was too tall to spend this much time crammed into economy. He needed a nap, preferably in a real bed. Not that he had seen a real bed in months. The night he had spent in a hotel before his exam didn’t count, he hadn’t used the bed, he had been too busy cramming to sleep.

He wouldn’t be getting any sleep on the couch here either, the terminal was too hectic for him to relax that much. Thankfully he did have other options, he shot a series of carefully selected emojis back at Bucky and fished a mystery novel out of his kit bag. Steve had rolled his eyes when Bucky had shoved the 500-page novel into his bag. It had seemed like so much extra weight at the time. His plan for the flight over had consisted of studying, and the music and movies on his phone would have been enough to keep him busy for his scheduled flights back. Now, the mystery of who was building all the murder snowmen was all that had stopped him from screaming while he was stuck on the tarmac for three hours. He was hoping the book could keep it up for a few more hours at least.

“Is this seat taken?” The softly English accented words broke into Steve’s reading.

Steve looked up, first to a pair of chic black heels, then stylish charcoal pants, a chunky purple sweater that hinted at a bombshell figure, and finally to the face of one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Heart shaped lips emphasised by deep red lipstick, soft warm eyes, wavy chestnut hair that begged to have fingers run through it. His mouth went dry as he let his eyes wander back down. He hadn’t been imagining those curves, or that confident posture. He didn’t even know if he could imagine a woman who looked like this.

Steve shook his head, trying to get his mind straight again. He really had been away from civilisation for too long. He was practically leering at the poor woman and all she wanted was a spot to sit. It was only after he finished the gesture that he realized she would probably read it as a rejection. Which wasn’t what he wanted. For one thing it would be rude, he wasn’t using the spot. For another, he definitely wouldn’t mind sitting next to this woman. “No, I’m on my own. Seats all yours.”

“Thank you, nothing worse than trying to work while sitting on the airport floor.” She kicked her sleek Samsonite suitcase around with the kind of skill that only came from frequent flying.

“No, I imagine that is pretty annoying.” Steve said, very deliberately not looking at her legs. He had no idea how anyone could be that dexterous in shoes that impractical, but he also wouldn’t deny that there was something ineffably attractive about the ability.

She pulled out a laptop and settled in next to him, their legs almost touching. Steve turned his attention back to his book. The detective had been in the middle of the uncovering a piece of important evidence. A note on blue paper. Although in this moment, Steve couldn’t remember exactly what that was supposed to prove. It was hard to focus on his book. His new couch buddy had the most adorable thinking face. Pursed lips, with a perfect crease between her eyes. Eyes that were amazingly bright and intelligent. He was a creep for even noticing. She was obviously a professional woman, just trying to do her job, and get through one hell of a day of travel. 

He did look up a her a few times, catching her eye and smiling when he did. He wasn’t surprised that she was aware of him, it was a small space, and he knew he wasn’t exactly a small guy. She smiled back every time, a soft warm smile. Steve would be lying if he said his pulse didn’t speed up a little at that smile. 

Steve made it through half a chapter without actually absorbing any of the plot. Next to him nails clicked against a keyboard, it should have been irritating. Instead Steve found it oddly soothing, like rain on the window. The sound lulled him into a near meditative state. He was just about to set his book down, close his eyes, and maybe try for the nap he had written off earlier, when the PA system chimed. Steve looked up at the rolling Icelandic announcement. He didn’t understand a word the soft female voice said but given all the other announcements he had heard today, he doubted it was good news.

The announcer started to repeat herself in English, the intercom crackled, buzzed, and cut out. Steve bit his tongue to stop from swearing. The only words Steve caught were all flights, three hours, and meal voucher. He was going to spend his entire leave in airports at this rate. His phone buzzed again. He didn’t check it this time. A picture of Bucky drinking a beer in front of a sunset would make him throw his phone across the room, and he didn’t feel like missing his very late flight explaining that to security.

His seating companion sighed, also looking up at the ceiling. “Well, that is frustrating.”

“Yeah.” Steve carefully tucked a bookmark between the pages of his novel. Another line to stand in, and another delay before he made it to his beach. He had earned his vacation. He deserved to spend Christmas walking on sand somewhere other than a desert. He wanted to hike somewhere at his own pace and not because people might die if he didn’t.

The mystery woman closed her laptop with a definitive click. “Should we get tea?”

“What?” Steve had been doing the math on when he would land in Croatia and trying to decide if he needed to call his commanding officer, or if he could get away with just texting Bucky and Monty. He hadn’t actually expected her to say anything beyond the perfunctory commiseration. 

Those perfect red lips turned up at the corners. The eyes sparkled with an amusement that equalled the intelligence he had seen before. “Tea? Or you’re American, I suppose you call it dinner. I hate eating alone.”

“I… Uhh…” Steve blinked confused. It sounded an awful lot like she had just asked him out. Which didn’t make any sense. She was gorgeous. He was a guy in combat boots and a military issue sweater. What could she possibly see in him? He shouldn’t be looking a gift horse in the mouth. He needed to eat, and he wanted to eat with her specifically. “Yeah, dinner—tea-- sounds good.”

“Marvellous.” She slipped her computer into her shoulder bag with efficient movements. “Meet me outside Nord once you have your voucher, if we hurry, we can beat the rush. I hate eating at the bar almost as much as I hate eating alone.”

Steve shoved his novel into his bag and leapt to his feet. He knew how to hustle when he needed to. He did give himself a second to watch her walk away. He’d always had a thing for women who knew what they wanted, and this woman definitely knew what she wanted.

*****

She was waiting for him when he got back with the voucher. He tried not to be surprised, she had asked him after all. Standing by the entrance to the restaurant, looking as composed and gorgeous as ever. There were a few people waiting to be seated ahead of them. Steve shifted his bag to his other shoulder and took the space in line next to her. Even in her heels, she only barely cleared his shoulder, but her presence was huge. Steve stopped himself from imagining her not in those heels. She was a friendly stranger looking for someone to share a meal with, not an object for his fantasies. He couldn’t quite shake the idea of her without the heels, standing in front of him, head level with the middle of his chest, personality bigger than the room. 

She smiled and elbowed him playfully in the arm. “I’m Peggy, by the way.”

He beamed back. Mystery woman had a name. Peggy. It was cute, spunky, he liked it. “Steve.” 

They ended up seated at the back of restaurant. At a little table, tucked away the same way the love seat had been. Soft low light made Peggy’s hair glow. Steve was very glad there were no candles. His imagination didn’t need any more fodder for romantic fantasies. They were having a friendly dinner. It was the sort of thing people did when everything else was out of their control. They had dinner with a stranger that didn’t seem too crazy, so they at least got a good story out of the day.

He made a joke while they were studying their menus, and she laughed. A bright rippling laugh that took Steve’s breath away, unbridled, a little wild. He wanted to make her laugh like that again. And again. And again. Instead, he cleared his throat and tried to focus on what he wanted to eat.

In the end, he got the lamb. Peggy got the arctic char and swapped half of her bread for some of his roasted vegetables. He let her order drinks, since he didn’t recognise anything on the menu, and ended up with a pear cider he would never have picked. It was delicious, fruity, bubbly, sunshine in a bottle, the perfect drink for a long depressing winter day. 

Talking to her was so natural, Steve couldn’t think of anyone he was as easy with. Maybe Bucky, but he didn’t count. Neither of them wanted to talk about work. Steve’s was all classified, and he got the impression that hers was both boring and stressful. There were lots of other things that were more fun to talk about anyway. 

Peggy had been to New York enough times to know her way around. She seemed to like Steve’s stories about growing up in Brooklyn. He loved her stories about her childhood in Hampstead. Climbing trees and wooden swordfights with her brother, was straight out of a children’s movie. 

Her time at Trinity College Cambridge was straight out of a different kind of movie. Staging a pantie raid on the head of the college, stealing his bourbon, and still making the dean’s list. Steve fell a little bit in love with her. Beauty, brains, bedlam, she was the total package.

He paid her back with some stories of the stunts he and the Howling Commandos had pulled, mostly from training camps, those were less classified than their other work. He had enough material from that to fill dinners for a month, a couple hours were no problem. 

She laughed some more and shared that her brother had been in the military before his death. It explained why she seemed to relate to his stories. He touched her hand softly at the disclosure. Even if she was as okay with it as she said she was, it was an intimate thing to tell a stranger.

There was other lighter conversation too, about the food, about when the weather might change, about Peggy’s hunt for a new apartment and how futile it felt when she was never in London to look, about how Steve thought he had done on his exam, art, music, movies. Little things along with the big. There was something about that soft English accent that made Steve want to listen to it forever.

They lingered over desert. Steve almost passed out when she stole a finger full of his whipping cream. The way she closed her eyes and purred when she licked it clean was going to make an appearance in his dreams, and he was going to feel guilty when it did. He kept slipping up and forgetting that this wasn’t a date of any kind. It was a friendly platonic meal. And he was going to hell, because he couldn’t stop picturing her making that face for other reasons. He managed to keep his end of the conversation going, even as the baser parts of his subconscious made notes for later.

Eventually Steve started to feel bad hogging the table, there were other stranded people that needed food. Steve flagged down the waitress and asked for the bill. 

“Sorry, I know I’m complicating things,” Steve smiled nervously up at their waitress. It was a good thing she spoke English as well as she did, he was about to be the kind of customer he hated. “But could I pay for both, but get the meals on separate receipts?”

The waitress took the request in stride. Steve had to assume it wasn’t the most ridiculous request she had heard this week. Holidays and traveling made people crazy. “Of course, sir.”

Across the table, Peggy frowned. “I can’t let you—”

“Yes, you can.” Steve waved her down. This wasn’t about her being a woman. This was about him being glad that of all the seats she could have chosen, she chose the one next to him. “I was having a terrible day before you came along. Me paying is a thank you for making it better. Besides, thanks to the vouchers I won’t actually be paying that much, and I can expense my meal.”

“That explains the two receipts.” Peggy muttered, eyes sparkling.

The waitress came back came back, setting a little black folder on the edge of the table and promising to be right back with the machine. Peggy set her perfectly manicured hand on the folder and drew it towards her. “What if I was going to expense my meal?”

Steve plucked the bill and her voucher out of her fingers and added them to the stack with his voucher and credit card. “Then, when we are inevitably delayed another four hours, I will let you pay for coffee, and you can expense that.”

“Coffee is not a meal.” Peggy steepled her hands under her chin and leaned forward on the table. The little quirk at the corner of her mouth told him she was arguing, but not seriously. She was playing with him.

“You haven’t seen my Starbucks order.” Steve grinned at her. He was flirting. He was actually flirting. Flirting with the most beautiful women he had ever met, and she was flirting back. He never flirted, every time he tried it went horribly.

They didn’t end up getting delayed again. They did end up sitting together right up until it was time for Peggy to board her plane. She had boggle on her phone. They were evenly match. Both of them coming up with obscure words that earned them a ridiculous number of points each round. Steve learned to love her little giggle of victory, even as he fought to trounce her. Steve didn’t believe in going easy on anyone, for any reason. A philosophy Peggy apparently shared. By the time they announced boarding for her flight, she was three points up and Steve wasn’t sure if he’d be able to pull ahead in the next round.

Steve walked her to the gate, not wanting the conversation to end. He knew drawing it out wouldn’t change anything. She was going to get on her plane. He was going to get on his. They would live their lives and never see each other again. He still wanted to spend every moment with her that he could. He was stupidly attached to her for the amount of time they had spent together.

There was a moment, just before Peggy joined the line, when Steve was almost sure she wanted him to kiss her. Her lips made a soft ‘o’, her eyes seemed to be studying his mouth. Steve cleared his throat and looked away. He was probably just imagining it. He stuck out his hand instead. “It was nice meeting you Peggy. If you’re ever in New York, make sure you try that sandwich place.”

She accepted his handshake, her hand soft and warm in his. If she was disappointed, it certainly didn’t show. “Nice meeting you too, Steve. Don’t worry, I will.”

******

Captain America🦅: _I’m in love._

Winter Soldier❄️: _I’m flattered really. But think of the children. I don’t think Dum Dum will be able to handle it when you inevitably realise I am just too much woman for you and we break up._

Captain America🦅: _I’m serious. I met a girl. We are going to get married, buy a house in the country, get a dog._

Winter Soldier❄️: _Steve._

Winter Soldier❄️: _You’re allergic to dogs._

Captain America🦅: _I think the bigger issue with my plan is she just got on a plane and I didn’t get her number._

Steve tapped his phone against the arm of his chair, waiting for Bucky’s response. It was sure to be cuttingly sarcastic, Bucky was never one to mince words when it came to Steve’s mistakes, or his inability to talk to people he was attracted to. It took a full five minutes, and inside of the text Steve was expecting or even a gif, it was a video call. He answered on the second ring.

Bucky greeted him with what had to be one of the least reassuring smiles Steve had ever seen, and he had seen a lot of non-reassuring smiles, usually from Bucky, usually right before they got into trouble. “Sorry that took me so long, took a while to get everyone together.”

“Get everyone to—” Steve didn’t even get the question out before he saw what Bucky meant. 

Bucky flipped the camera on his phone to show the squad assembled in front of a blank wall, his free hand appeared in frame, waving like a conductor. “All right men, a one, and a two, and a—”

They started to sing. It sounded like ‘My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean' only they had changed the words.

_My Captain, oh he is a coward.  
My Captain, he can’t talk to girls.  
My Captain, he is a coward.  
Oh, what kind of Captain is he?_

_Coward, coward.  
Oh, what a coward is he.  
Coward, coward.  
Oh, what a coward is he._

They drew the last note out, all raising their arms and shaking their hands dramatically.

Steve was glad he had headphones in, it was bad enough trying to keep a straight face in the crowded room, without all the waiting passenger overhearing. It was a surprisingly well rehearsed barbershop number. The snapping was all in time. The harmonies were good. The lyrics might not be the most inspired, but they weren’t bad either.

“Dismissed.” Bucky barked in his drill sergeant voice. The team snapped crisp salutes, before dissolving into a laughing pile. Bucky flipped his camera back around and Steve was treated to a shit eating grin. “I know, I know, _girl_ , but you try finding a non-gendered word for person that fits the rhyme scheme. What do you think?”

Steve sat back in his chair, maintaining a studied neutral expression. One he had perfected since he had started leading his rag tag band of brilliant idiots. “Not bad. Baritone was a little pitchy.”

“I’m a baritone.” Bucky said indignantly.

“I know.” Steve said, serious expression breaking in favour of a grin, maybe perfected was too strong a word. Steve could hear the rest of the team getting back to whatever they had been doing before Bucky roped them into his prank. A movie starting up. Monty complaining about them keeping him up. Happy laughing. It sounded like home. Steve couldn’t wait for all this flying to be over so he could join in on their ridiculousness. Not that he didn’t love being the butt of their jokes, but he loved being the mastermind more. “How long have you been working on that?”

Bucky dropped into an armchair with his usual boneless sprawl. Holding the phone at arm’s length while he hooked one knee over the back of the chair and tucked his other hand behind his neck. “Remember that night we went clubbing and you met that blonde?”

Steve rolled his eyes. Not that story again. They had been over this. “She wasn’t hitting on me, Buck.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. He never believed Steve when it came to his assessment of whether someone was interested or not. “She called you a hero and asked if you wanted to see the view from her apartment.”


	2. April 27th- May 3rd

Steve took deep breaths, pushing through the fatigue to finish his reps. He liked saving the bench press for the end of his workout. They were mostly muscle memory. He could almost do them in his sleep at this point. A few feet away, Bucky worked his way thought his third set of hanging knee lifts. Between lifts, Bucky was brainstorming plans for the leave they had coming up. A long weekend in Berlin. Bucky wanted to try a new club he had heard about. Which explained why Bucky was focusing on his delts so much. He knew what his best features were. There was a reason Bucky had a tattoo wrapped around his bicep, and it wasn't the 'sentimental' reasons he gave his ma when she complained about it.

Steve closed his eyes, giving himself a chance to catch his breath before he started his next set. He didn’t want to go clubbing in Berlin. He wasn’t in the mood to play wingman for Bucky and end up standing awkwardly at the bar while Bucky went home with someone beautiful. A pair of honey-brown eyes swam into his mind’s eye, reminding him that he knew exactly what he wanted, there was just no way he could have it. Logic did nothing to stop his imagination running wild. Berlin with the mysterious Peggy. She would love Berlinische Galerie, and he would have loved showing it to her. Her eyes would sparkle, those perfect lips would smile, and she would laugh. That laugh of hers. He heard it in his dreams.

Berlin wasn’t all that far from London. He wondered if she would have joined him for the weekend if he hadn’t been too much of a chicken to ask for her number. Who was he kidding? A girl as amazing as Peggy, she wouldn’t wait months between dates, or sit by the phone for hours when he couldn’t guarantee a call. ‘Airplane girl’, as Bucky called her, had flown away before he had ever let her get on that plane.

A sweaty towel landed on Steve’s face, interrupting his train of thought. “You’re thinking about her again.”

“I spent five hours with her, four months ago.” Steve dragged the towel off his face and used it to wipe his own neck. “I’m not thinking about her every time I ignore you.”

“Why’d you know exactly who I meant then?” Bucky looked smugger than anyone had a right to, as he flipped his water bottle into his hand.

Because Bucky could basically read his mind. Because they had been joined at the hip almost as long as Steve could remember. Because the only person Steve was fooling when he said he wasn’t thinking about Peggy was himself... and it wasn’t working all that well. Which Bucky probably knew. Steve rubbed his eyes. “God, I hate you some days.”

“Only when I’m right.” Bucky took a long drink of water, splashing more of it down his neck. 

Steve sighed and lay back on the bench, staring up at the bar and its weights. Bucky was right. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Five hours. That was all it had taken. He was absolutely gone for Peggy. He turned his head to watch Bucky start in on bicep curls. What was it about his personality that made him fall for impossible people?

*****

Bucky shielded his eyes and squinted into the light. He couldn’t tell if the speck on the horizon was a helicopter, or just a spot from staring at the sun too long. VIP escort was always a tedious job. Even more tedious when transport was late, and he had to stand around waiting. There was no shade by the landing pad. Just sun, and sand, a whole lot of waiting around in full uniform instead of lounging around with his boots untied and his jacket off. Bucky settled back into a parade rest. He was a sniper. He really should be better at waiting than this.

The dot grew larger. It was a helicopter, Bucky just hoped it was _his_ helicopter. British Intelligence was supposed to be sending their best and brightest. Someone who would hopefully be able to fill them in on what exactly they were missing and why they couldn’t find the Zola guy who was supposedly building all the strange weapons they kept running into. Bucky hoped whoever this agent was they would be able to live up to the hype. Steve got frustrated when their leads came up empty, and Bucky wasn’t a huge fan of all the getting shot at for nothing either. He definitely wasn’t a fan of walking into an ambush like they had six months ago.

It landed a few seconds later. The co-pilot threw open the door and handed out a petite woman. She had crisp khaki pants tucked into combat boots, a polo shirt that was somehow still pressed after hours in the air, an olive drab jacket that was half zipped up, and dark hair braided back from her face. She dragged a duffle bag and a laptop satchel out of the helicopter after her. Assuming MI6 agents followed the same dress code as CIA agents this was looking very promising.

“Are you my escort?” The woman yelled over the sound of the rotors. Her British accent was music to Bucky’s ears. They could get out of here, and out of the sun.

“I prefer tour guide. Sergeant James Barnes, at your service ma’am.” Bucky extended a hand towards her, partly in greeting, partly because it always helped get newbies out of the danger zone faster.

Her handshake was firm, returned while she was still moving, getting clear of the blades with a practiced efficiency. “Agent Carter, you can start by showing me where I can set up for my briefing.”

She knew how to get out of a helicopter, she cut right to the chase, so far at least, she hadn’t forced him to carry her bags. She was officially Bucky’s favourite intelligence officer. “Right this way, ma’am.”

*****

Steve slapped Jacques on the back and ushered his team into the rough conference room. Planning was always his favourite part of a mission. At least usually it was. Their last few briefings had been train wrecks, out of date information, obvious things that they already knew, ‘facts’ that were ridiculously easy to prove wrong as soon as you had boots on the ground, all delivered by stuffed shirts that seemed to think he and his team were mindless meatheads that couldn’t put their shoes on without orders. They had never worked with MI6 before though, and Bucky liked this intel officer so far. 'Carter' had received a glowing review over lunch.

Steve froze. She had her back towards the door, bent over the conference table scribbling away at some paperwork, but Steve would recognise her anywhere. Peggy. Beautiful, intelligent, ship passing in the night, to perfect to be real, Peggy.

Bucky threw himself into his chair and kicked his feet up on the table. “Ready when you are, Agent Carter.”

“Marvellous,” Peggy tapped her pen against the papers she was reading. “I just need your captain’s name and exact rank, they left it off my paperwork for some reason.” 

Steve took another two steps into the room. He was just coming to terms with never seeing her again, and here she was, here and asking for his name. “Rogers. Steven Rogers, Captain first class.”

Peggy turned around. Dozens of expressions flashed across her face when she saw him. Surprise, excitement, longing, confusion, regret, determination. She settled on cool professional detachment.

“So… how was your flight?” Steve rubbed the back of his neck. He was going to get so much shit from his team for this. In his fantasies he never had to do this in front of an audience. In his fantasies he didn’t have to do this part at all, they got to skip straight to the fun part. The ‘fall into each other’s arms, kiss until they fell over, and then keep kissing’ part.

Peggy opened her mouth like she was going to say something. She closed it again and cleared her throat delicately before finally speaking. “A little turbulence, but nothing worth complaining about. Shall we start?”

“Yeah, of course.” Steve sunk into the empty spot next to Monty and across from Bucky. He opened his notebook and turned to face her waiting slideshow. They were working. He could be a professional. It was five hours, four months ago. Just because he couldn’t get her out of his head didn’t mean she felt the same. Or even that she felt anything.

Peggy was as amazing as he had remembered. Her presentation was precise, full of new information, it admitted where there were gaps in the intelligence, there was room for input from his team, intelligent room, the kind that would let them play to their strengths and tackle the problem their way rather than trying to force themselves into someone else’s model of what an excursion should look like. She had maps, actual good maps, accompanied by satellite photos of the exact terrain they would be moving through. 

Steve looked down at Monty’s notebook. He had made twice as many notes as Steve had. That was why a good lieutenant was so important, they picked up the slack when you were distracted. And Steve was distracted, as good as Peggy’s presentation was, he was watching her more than it. Watching, and pretending he didn’t notice her deliberately not watching him.

A paperclip hit Steve in the face, pinging perfectly off the centre of his forehead. Looked at where it had come from. Bucky was looking at him, not at the maps. As soon as he saw he had Steve’s attention, he widened his eyes in a silent question. A very intense silent question.

 _What?_ Steve mouthed across the table at him. 

_Is she’s airplane girl?_ Bucky mouthed back. He nodded towards Peggy. Steve was reminded that he needed new friends. Better friends. Ones who wouldn’t embarrass him in font of the woman of his literal dreams.

They were working. Bucky could ruin his life later. Steve flicked the paperclip back at Bucky’s forehead. He missed by inches. _Focus._

Steve tried to take his own advice and actually pay attention to the slides Peggy was presenting. It wasn’t easy with that honey sweet English accent turning even boring figures into music in his ears. Although the more of them he heard, the more he liked her figures for reasons other than the accent. Her information was miles better than anything he had seen in the last three tours. Was it British Intelligence, or just Peggy?

By the end of the presentation, Steve had three pages full of notes, and was the most optimistic about an operation that he had been in years. He dismissed the squad when she wrapped up, sending them to do anything that wasn’t in the room. There was something he needed to do, and he didn’t want an audience. Steve leaned against the edge of the table, crossing his arms across his chest nervously. He still wasn’t sure how to actually have this conversation.

Peggy flicked her eyes towards him, dropping them again almost as soon as they found his face. “James, would you mind clearing the room for me? I need to run over to communications and send a fax.”

 _James?_ No one called Bucky ‘James’. He was either Barnes or Bucky to everyone who knew him. Even his mother only used his first name when she was mad at him. Steve looked at Bucky. Was there more going on there than he knew?

Bucky shrugged in equal confusion. He cleared his throat and gathered some of the papers on the table. “I’m at your disposal for the deration of your stay, ma’am”

No, no, no. Steve pushed away from the table. She couldn’t leave before he got a chance to talk to her. “I’ll walk you—”

“I know the way, thank you Captain.” Peggy cut him off and shoved past him. She was out the door before he could formulate another sentence.

Steve groaned and slumped over the table. He was a disaster. The girl of his dreams fell into his lap twice and he had messed it up so badly the first time that she wouldn’t even talk to him the second time. He banged his head softly against the tabletop. He was going to die miserable and alone. 

“So, airplane girl is a spook.” Bucky had the papers cleared away and was starting on the AV equipment. Unplugging cables and tossing them onto the table around Steve.

“Looks that way.” Steve grumbled into the table. His legendary inability to talk to cute people continued. 

Bucky glanced at the door, wrapping the longest cable around his forearm. “She got out of here pretty fast.”

Steve leaned back in the chair, reaching for another one of the cables that needed coiling. Might as well help Bucky clean up. “Do we have to talk about this?”

“Nope,” Bucky took the cable from Steve and hung them back on the wall where they belonged. “Just thought you might want to.”

Steve ran his hand through his hair. He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t even want to think about it. So, what did he want? “I want to work out until I can’t lift my arms. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

Bucky patted Steve’s shoulder. “Cheer up. You’ve still got me.”

*****

Steve scrubbed soap through his hair. The work out hadn’t helped as much as he had hoped. He hadn’t been able to shut his brain off. Peggy had haunted him the entire time. She’d looked so hurt when she had pushed past him. What had he done to deserve that much anger? He didn’t think he had said anything in appropriate. The thought that he had offended or hurt her, even unknowingly, was killing him. He had genuinely tried to be a gentleman. He never wanted to hurt anyone, but especially not her. Steve leaned against the wall of the shower. Water on base was never what one would call hot, but it was warm enough to feel good.

The water hitting his head turned from lukewarm to freezing. 

Steve yelped and leapt out of the shower stall, scrambling for his towel. He was going to kill Bucky. He was not in the mood for stupid childish pranks. This wasn’t the first time someone had cut his shower short by turning off the hot water. The exposed and easily accessible shut off valves were a major design flaw with the shower block. He wiped the water out of his eyes, composing some very select words for his best friend and tormenter. 

Someone was standing with a hand on the hot water shut off. Just not the person he was expecting. She was nearly a foot shorter for one thing. She was glaring at him and pursing her lips instead of grinning evilly for another.

Peggy’s eyes flashed. “Why didn’t you kiss me?”

“What?” Steve was very conscious of the fact he the only thing he had to cover himself was his ratty towel. He should have replaced it months ago. It hadn’t felt like a priority when he wasn’t faced with a very beautiful, very angry, woman, while he was naked and dripping wet.

“We had a nice time, at least I thought we did.” She started pacing, moving back and forth along the narrow cement corridor. “I asked you to dinner, you insisted on paying, we talked for hours, you were completely obsessed with my mouth, you walked me to my flight, and then nothing.”

Steve winced. He’d hoped she hadn’t noticed the mouth thing. He really had tried to not to be disrespectful. “I—"

“I can understand not asking for my number,” Peggy cut him off again. Agitation evident in her every gesture. “But I don’t understand why you didn’t at least try to kiss me.”

“Because I’m a coward.” Steve tried to get his towel actually wrapped around his hips without flashing her. He’d never learned to talk to people he was attracted to. He’d been small and awkward for most of high school. Even after puberty had hit him like a proverbial train, he’d been shy. It had never felt like a big deal, not when going home alone usually meant going home with Bucky.

“I looked you up, Rogers.” Peggy crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. “While I was waiting for London to confirm they had received my paperwork, I pulled your file. You’re decorated. More than a little decorated.”

“Yeah, fine. I’m good at this.” Steve waved vaguely to indicate the base around them. He dropped his hand back to his side defeated. Some parts of his life he was good at, others not so much. “But you? Kissing? Romance? I chicken out. Pretty much every time. Ask anyone.” 

Steve sighed and rubbed his eyes. Not pretty much every time. Every time. He just managed to hold on a little longer occasionally. “The guys even have a song.”

“A song?” Peggy asked curiously. Her expression softened for the first time since he had stepped out of the shower.

Steve cleared his throat. A song, a number of stories, and one scarily accurate impersonation of Steve’s reaction to the time a guy at a bar had caught Steve off guard and kissed him. Dum Dum was a surprisingly gifted mimic. He had to wonder if there was any way to stop Peggy from talking to any of the members of his team. It was probably too late since she had already met Bucky. “Can I put on pants before we have this conversation?”

Peggy stopped, seeming to take in his state of undress for the first time. “What precisely happens if I say no?”

The corner of Steve’s mouth twitched. Sweet mother of God, the things her eyes could do. “Well, for starters, I’m going to remind you that you turned off my hot water, so I’m very cold.”

Peggy’s mischievous smile lit up the whole room. Steve didn’t feel cold anymore. He felt like his blood had been replaced by sunshine. He was definitely going to kiss her. Kiss her and get her number this time.


End file.
